In February  stayed in Scruton, a village near Northallerton, for three weeks. While there, I wanted to get a tattoo because it would be cheaper than in London. I let the shopkeeper know that my time in town was limited—I had to return to London within a week. When I first visited, the receptionist advised me to send my design idea through Messenger as soon as possible. She explained that, with such short notice, it would be difficult to secure an appointment otherwise. 

But I didn’t listen. Something in me felt it was better to go in person and discuss it instead. 

Two days later, I walked into the shop with my tattoos idea, fully expecting to wait at least a week for an appointment. To my surprise, the tattoo artist told me that two clients had cancelled—he had an opening and could do my tattoo that very day! He also added that accepted only cash. 

I panicked. “Shit, I don’t have cash,” I blurted out – you know, I’m a card girl. But then, as he told me where to withdraw money, I remembered—I actually did have cash on me. The host family I was housesitting for had given me some, and it turned out I had exactly £120, the price of the tattoo, tucked away in my belt bag. 

The artist started designing, carefully listening to my vision. He spent over three hours making edits on his tablet—only for it to suddenly turn off. It wouldn’t charge, no matter what he tried. He had to start again from scratch. 

This time, I asked him to make a few tweaks, keeping the design closer to my original idea. And strangely enough, I was grateful for the mishap—because the second version turned out even better. 

All of these moments felt like part of a larger synchronicity. 

In the end, I got my tattoos done. They are my tribute to the Goddess, the Moon, and the God, the Sun—both integral parts of me. Every day, I work to balance their energies within myself. Now, I have a permanent visual reminder of what I believe to be my truth and what I stand for.